


To Bethlehem

by imaginefishes



Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: Aftercare, Biting, Demon Sex, Demons, Established Relationship, F/M, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Gentle Kissing, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Kissing, Love Bites, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Neck Kissing, Nipple Licking, Other, POV Second Person, Panic Attacks, Past Rape/Non-con, Pet Names, Porn With Plot, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:47:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28212651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imaginefishes/pseuds/imaginefishes
Summary: Nobody fucks with my baby.
Relationships: Main Character/Mammon (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Mammon (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 95





	To Bethlehem

**Author's Note:**

> This story was inspired by the drama that occurred around the Devilgram for the Escorts card (that was so long ago sjfgddk), and even though it was a misunderstanding, I thought it'd be a really good story idea. Also, I pictured MC as male while writing this, but they could be female/nb too! They'll just be really strong skskdks

His eyes twinkled as he laughed, his body bending over in half whilst you giggled, leaning back as you looked at him. In the vibrant atmosphere, the light shining from your lamp seemed to bathe the two of you in a golden hue, leaving behind shadows that appeared to dance around the room. In your elation, you had reached out a hand to pet his hair, waiting to feel the soft fluff amongst your fingertips, but all you touched was air. You paused, looking at Mammon’s now tense form, unsure of what had just happened. Your fingers awkwardly closed around each other to form a fist before you let it drop to your side.

“What’s wrong, Mammon?” You asked, lips creasing into a frown.

He stammered, looking down at the ground, body still stiff. “I-It’s nothin’.”

The creases lining your face only deepened as he excused himself, slipping past you before you could press further. Everything was just alright— he’d been laughing for God’s sake. How could the atmosphere have just changed so drastically? Silence now hung in the air, thick enough to crush your lungs and jarring enough to leave a bitter taste on your tongue.

He always loved it when you pet his hair… did you do something wrong? The last time you’d used the pact was weeks ago, when he wouldn’t leave the poor shopkeepers alone even after they had rejected his bartering offer multiple times. Surely it wasn’t because of that. Did you remind him of something?

A million thoughts raced through your mind, but each explanation you came up with only left more questions behind. You groaned in frustration, lifting a hand up to push your hair back as you paced back and forth in your room. After a few moments, you sighed, plopping down on the chair in front of your desk, banishing the worries from your mind and resigning yourself to doing the RAD assignments you’d been procrastinating so far. You _had_ been planning to cuddle with Mammon for the next few hours, but well… Yeah.

At least it wouldn’t hurt to give him some space, you mused, picking up your pen.

A short crackling noise filled the room as you popped your joints in preparation, black ink soon flowing out onto the paper at the expense of your wrist, the pain discomforting but insignificant enough for you to ignore and power through your work. A quick dinner break allowed you some reprieve but before long, you were scrawling on the paper again, desperate to finish your assignments before the next day, which was the deadline Satan had only just informed you of.

Finally, the last few words of your last essay squeezed its way out of your mind and onto the paper, and you tilted your head up to look at the clock. Its hands pointed to 10pm, which briefly surprised you; that was fairly late compared to the time you’d usually finish your work by. Not wanting to waste any more time, you shoved your papers into your bag and leaped onto the soft mattress of your bed, where the exhaustion of the day caught up to you and you soon fell into a deep slumber.  
The next day, you tried to catch Mammon before breakfast to check in with him, but by the time you’d arrived in the dining hall, only the other brothers remained. You were slightly disappointed by his absence, but if he needed more time… You supposed that was only fair.

After an uneventful breakfast, the rest of you headed to RAD just in time for assembly, and lessons began as per usual. Unfortunately for you, the day was scheduled full of theoretical classes, and you soon found yourself nodding off in the middle of Devildom History… the first lesson of the day.

Right as you jerked yourself awake for the fifth time in that lesson, the door slammed open to reveal Satan, chest heaving and a panicked expression on his face. He threw an apologetic look at the teacher before speaking, his voice echoing throughout the classroom. “MC? Student council business.” He requested, a hint of urgency in his tone. Naturally, you complied, glad to be rid of the lesson material at hand.

You had barely stepped out the classroom when he grabbed your arm, dragging you along the corridor as the door slowly creaked shut behind you. Caught taken aback, you let him pull you along to wherever you were needed, only finding the sense to speak after a few moments had passed.

“Wait wait wait wait wait—” you sputtered, attempting to pull your arm away from his, yet your efforts barely made him throw a glance in your direction.

“No time to talk, MC. We’re headed to the Student Council Room, if you must know,” Satan replied, not once relenting in the speed of his steps nor the strength of his grip.

Though you were dissatisfied with his response, the information he had given you was enough for you to map out the route to the Council Room, and you soon managed to pick up your pace and match your gait to his. The two of you walked abreast purposefully, striding towards the Student Council Room as you rounded the last corner. Satan extended a hand to push open the door, quickly rushing into the room as the large mahogany panels flung open.

You would have taken a step in too, had you not seen Mammon cradled on the floor within Lucifer’s embrace. Soft sobs and wheezes escaped his mouth whilst Lucifer whispered hushed words into his ears, Asmo kneeling beside him and rubbing his back. They barely acknowledged you when you entered, continuing to soothe Mammon as the rest of the brothers stood in various spaces around the room. Satan found his place besides Levi and the other brothers, noticing his arrival, soon followed. They launched into a whispered conversation that seemed to escalate with every passing word, but a sudden hush fell over the room as they glanced back at you, as if only just remembering you were there too.

You swallowed, self-conscious from the newfound attention. You had been rooted to the ground since you’d entered, but in your panic, your feet found its strength again and you stumbled forward, looking between the four brothers huddled together, and the heaving, sniffling mess in Lucifer’s arms. You swallowed, inching closer to Mammon’s curled-up form, hand outstretched. He buried his face in the crook of Lucifer’s elbow as Asmo pulled back, heading off to join the rest of the brothers. Lucifer now took over the role of rubbing Mammon’s back for a while before he relaxed his grip, as if offering Mammon to you, who jerked his head back to face you yet unwilling to meet your eyes.

His face was streaked with tears, eyes swollen and puffy, but his breathing calmed down as you approached. You reached out a hand to cradle his cheek, wiping away the tear stains as he slowly glanced up at you.

“What happened?”

“Panic attack,” Satan interjected, breaking away from the group. “Some lesser demon thought it’d be fun to shapeshift to mimic the witch triplets. Those damn witches—” He caught himself before he could rant further, sighing before he folded his arms and threw a glance at Mammon. “It’s not my place to say further.”

You looked back at Mammon, his face contorting again in an attempt to stop himself from crying any longer. Lucifer handed Mammon to you, who you shifted forward to embrace, and tears started flowing down his cheeks yet again.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. I’m here, baby,” you said, gently rocking your arms back and forth to comfort Mammon. He leaned into you, wanting to say something yet unable to do so due to the sobs breaking up his voice.

“I- I- witches- they-” He tried speaking, but you shushed him, rubbing his back and pulling him in closer to you. Blue eyes met yours, and you smiled, kissing him on his forehead.

His breaths gradually returned to normal, and when you were sure the panic attack wouldn’t relapse again, you released him, holding him by his shoulders and looking at him.

“Hey baby. You ready to talk about what’s wrong?”

He took a deep breath, his line of sight falling to the floor. He swallowed. “The witches… a few days ago, they called me over. They told me a lot of things, like they were buttering me up for somethin’. And then they,” his voice cracked. “Then they blackmailed me… and forced me to…” his voice trailed off, words getting softer and softer, but the room was silent enough that you could pick out what he’d said.

You doubted your hearing. But when you looked around the room at the faces of the six other brothers, all filled to various extents with guilt and bitterness, you knew you had heard it right.

A wave of emotions flooded your mind, each one blitzing past for a brief moment: shock, horror, hysteria, rage, hate, frustration, disgust, agony— not just because of their actions, but because you couldn’t be there to help him, and that he had to suffer through that. A wave of nausea hit you as the full extent of their actions sunk in, and your rage swelled into wrath.

“They did… what? To you?” You scoffed, hands tightening around his shoulders. “I will make them _pay_. You’re mine,” you said, voice coming out in a deep, guttural growl. “And _no one_ lays a finger on you.”

You shot up, storming towards the door when in a flash, a large figure streaked past your side to loom over you. You paid him no heed, ramming into the figure with all your strength, but it remained, blocking your exit.

“Lucifer, I suggest you _get out of my way_ ,” you said through gritted teeth.

“Calm down, MC.”

You ignored his order, pushing a hand out to shove him as hard as you could despite knowing it was a futile effort. He continued to stand in your way, unmoving. You tried pushing him again.

“MC!” He grabbed your hands, pinning them down by your side in one fell swoop. It was infuriating how _strong_ demons were compared to humans. You strained against his bonds, but it was in vain— there was no breaking out of Lucifer’s grasp. The idea of using the pact hadn’t even occurred to you, but you wouldn’t have been able to concentrate well enough to utilise it properly anyway.

Instead, you looked up at him, eyebrows furrowed and a look of dismay on your face, as if you couldn’t believe he was preventing you from seeking revenge. Your lips soon twisted into a snarl as you spoke, “They _hurt_ him. And I’m going to make. Them. Pay.” You spat out each word, each word laced with venom so potent one would think you were trying to murder Lucifer.

“MC, calm down, for Diavolo’s sake!” He grabbed you by your shoulders, shaking you ever-so slightly. “Look at you. You’re just a human, you don’t have a good grasp over your magical ability. What could you possibly do to them that they couldn’t just avoid, or in turn, do it to you instead?”

Frustration continued to bubble up in you as you struggled in Lucifer’s grip, searching desperately for an excuse to throw at him just so he’d let you go— but he was right. What would you do, once you’d gotten there? Throw a few punches? Try a few curses? They’d overpower you in seconds. You growled.

“Come on, MC,” he said, bending down slightly to look into your eyes. You forced your features into a hardened stare, looking pointedly at the door behind him. “MC,” he insisted. “Go home. Take a day off. Look after Mammon for us, can you do that?”

You let that message steep for a while, until finally, you released the tension in your body and your shoulders slackened. You were truly helpless in the situation. Revenge would be… perhaps not impossible, but highly improbable for you to carry out alone. The best you could do right now was to be there for Mammon and comfort him, and damned right you would. Perhaps revenge would be more… fitting, at a later time.

You looked up at Lucifer, eyes blazing with new determination. “Okay,” you replied, prompting him to release his vice on you. The pressure on your wrists diminished, freeing you so you could turn back towards Mammon. You sighed internally, walking over to his sitting form on the ground.

“Hey, baby.” You lay a hand on his arm. “Let’s go home, alright?”

He didn’t respond.

You rubbed his back for a few moments before picking him up bridal-style, nodding to the other brothers as you left the Council Room to begin the long trek back to the House of Lamentation.

On the way back, he’d finally broken out of his trance, shaky feet finding their place on the ground beside you, though you commanded him to lean on you for support. The two of you walked in silence, and slowly… slowly… slowly… your hand inched towards his. Just when you made the briefest of contact, his hand darted away.

Oh. Right. Of course. You chided yourself for your oversight, taking precautions to avoid direct contact with his skin for the rest of the walk, instead wondering what you could do for Mammon once you reached the House of Lamentation.

In the end, you decided to walk him to his bed after arriving at the house. Once you helped him lay in it, you stood up, informing him of your plan to make tea. You turned to leave when you felt him grab your arm, tugging harshly and pulling you back.

“Don’t go,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

You paused, turning around. His grip tightened, and he tugged at your arm yet again, pulling you down to sit beside him. “I wanna… talk,” he mumbled.

You shifted your body to face him, reaching out a hand tentatively to his head. He screwed his eyes shut as your hand drifted closer and closer to his hair, breath hitching when your hand rested atop his head. You let it rest there, unmoving, just watching his reactions. Gradually, his facial muscles relaxed and he resumed breathing after a while, looking up at you in a half-lidded expression, cheek squished against the pillow.

You smiled, gently stroking his hair. “Sure, babe. What do you want to talk about?”

“The witches.” He paused. You waited for him to continue.

He lifted an arm, hiding behind his elbow as he spoke. “They called me over a few days ago, and you know what they’re like… so I agreed. Then we started to gamble, and I was rollin’ it in, and they kept complimentin’ me… But then they decided to up the stakes, and I said no.” His voice trembled. “But they wouldn’t stop. They… they used the pact. They forced me to lie down, and then they…” Tears welled up in his eyes. “I can still feel it… every time I close my eyes, they’re there… their fingertips ghosting over my skin… exploring me… sometimes gripping harshly and sometimes slapping me,” he swallowed, voice dropping to a hoarse whisper. “It was like I was just a toy to them. I was cryin’ and shakin’ and screamin’ the whole time, but they… they didn’t care. They just made me… again… and again… and again.” His voice cracked.

“I hate it, I hate it so much. I wish it would just go away. I’m a _demon_ , MC, and I couldn’t even hold off a few witches. What kind of demon’s so _stupid_ and _powerless_ , let alone one who’s supposed to be one of the seven rulers of Hell?” He sobbed, fresh tears sliding down the side of his face.

You leaned in closer, “It’s okay, Mammon. It’s not your fault. They used the pact against you, didn’t they?” Your voice came out in a gentle whisper as your free hand moved to lay on his arm, rubbing along it in a soothing manner.

He sunk his face into the pillow.

“See? They betrayed your trust. It’s not your fault. It’s okay, Mammon,” you repeated, pulling him up into a hug and stroking the back of his head. “You’re many things, but weak isn’t one of them. The pact imposes their will over yours; there was no way you could have stopped that. And I’m sorry you had to go through that, but you survived through it. You are _strong_ , and _brave_ , and _beautiful_ , and I am so proud to call you mine.” You looked at him, forehead creased, and brushed away the loose locks of hair that covered his face. He blushed instead, burying his head into the crook of your neck.

After a brief moment of silence, he spoke, voice muffled by your skin, its vibrations tickling you. You giggled and broke away. “Sorry, can you repeat that?”

He looked away, another light blush spreading across his cheeks. “I wanna… do it with you. I wanna, when I think of being touched, to be touched by you… and only you.” His eyes peeked at you from underneath thick eyelashes. “I know it won’t be some sorta magical cure for that… experience, but at least…” He shuddered. “At least I can get them out of my mind.” His blush deepened. “A-and I can replace that with thoughts of ya!”

You chuckled at his enthusiasm, but the wave of concerns rushing into your head halted your actions. You pursed your lips, asking, “Are you sure, Mammon? I don’t want to accidentally bring back any… bad memories.”

He grabbed your face, holding your cheeks in both hands, eyes wide open in an earnest look. “MC, if I stop feelin’ comfortable, I’ll tell ya, okay?” He leaned in, pressing his lips to yours, gently at first, then more insistently when you failed to react.

You relented, kissing him back gently as your hand drifted to touch some part of him, eventually landing on his ribcage. He flinched when you made contact, and immediately, you pulled away, anxious that that single touch might have triggered him again. An apology bolted out of your mouth before you could even think, and you stammered out, “I-I’m so sorry, Mammon, I knew this was a bad idea, your mental state isn’t okay right now and I- I took advantage of that, I’m s—” Your rambling was cut off when he pressed his lips to yours again, effectively shutting you up.

“Shh… It’s okay, MC, I want this. I was just caught off guard. Please, I want— no, I need you to continue. If I’m not okay with anything, I’ll tell ya. I promise.”

A seed of guilt budded in your heart: Sure, you wanted to give this to him, but it was just so _risky_ … Sensing your hesitation, he took things into his own hands, quite literally, by grabbing your face and planting a kiss on your cheek, eyes wide open in a pleading look.

That was enough to dissolve your qualms.

You began kissing him gently, your lips trailing from his own down to the side of his neck. Your hands hovered around his waist, only making contact when he’d pressed them down to touch his uniform-clad skin himself. You let your hands roam around his body, to travel across his back before making their way back to his front where you attempted to pull his jacket off, but he was one step ahead of you, already shrugging the garment off his shoulders.

You kissed along his chest, lips pressing against fabric as your hands caressed his back. He sighed in response, a semblance of pleasure crossing his face. He rested his hands onto yours, guiding you to unbutton his shirt.

You slipped a hand out of his grip and placed it over his gently. “Isn’t that a little fast?”

He pulled you back towards him. “I wanna feel ya on my skin. I want you to give back what they’ve stolen from me.” His lips curved into a slight smirk. “And maybe a little bit more.”

You laughed, shaking your head but complying with his desires anyway, unbuttoning his shirt as quickly as you could to expose his beautiful tanned skin. You tugged on his tie to bring him closer to you, kissing along his collarbone before you shifted to his chest, lips perching on his nipple and gently sucking.

Your hand inched closer as you did so, resting on his thigh before you ran it up over his abs. He gasped, body tensing up, and you pulled off again worriedly, but he shook his head and replaced your hand. You let it stay there, only rubbing ever-so slightly along his skin as you shifted your attention to his other nipple. Then, as your lips glided down his chest to his abs, your hand slinked down, wedging itself under the waistband of his pants to rest on his pelvis.

He yelped when your hand wrapped around his cock, and you looked up at him teasingly. He had lifted an arm to cover the, presumably, heavy blush on his cheeks, but you pushed it back down, eyes drinking in the sight before you nuzzled your face into his neck. You continued to kiss at his delicate skin, murmuring as you casually rubbed the underside of his cock.

“Don’t hide yourself from me,” 

He whimpered, bucking his hips up, and you took the opportunity to slip your hand out of his pants to lower them down to his thighs, freeing his half-erect cock. Its tapered tip glistened with lubrication, and _by God if you weren’t tempted to taste that_ , but you forced yourself to bring your lips to his instead, and settled for using your hand.

You rubbed your fingers over the tip of his cock, picking up some of his natural lube and using it to slick his ribbed shaft. Your hand glided over the ridges of his cock down to its base before sensually moving upward again, and he sighed, his own hands gradually moving closer until they wrapped around your back.

You used your free arm to grab hold of him, caressing his back soothingly as you continued to stroke his cock. You pressed your lips against his neck again, this time using your teeth to nibble and suck at the sensitive skin there. He groaned as you did so, tilting his head away to give you more space to work with.

You sucked on that spot for a while longer, then drifted your lips over to his ear. “Mm, you’re such a good boy for me,” you whispered, petting his hair as you pulled away to admire your work. Satisfied with the mark you had left behind, you began focusing all your energy on his cock, and suddenly giving it a particularly forceful tug. That elicited a whine out of him, and you smiled. Your other hand traced its way from his back down to his waist, appreciating the warmth of his skin and the beautiful curve of his figure, then sliding down to his hip.

He twitched once more when your hand touched his bare skin, and you quickly lifted your arm away. Yet, contact was resumed when he pressed your hand back down, and you swallowed, slightly shaken, returning to gently stroke his cock. You let your other hand rest on his skin, but after a few moments, you regained your courage and began groping his ass and handling his cock with newfound vigour.

You renewed your attack on his chest, kissing the taut muscle and teasing his nipples. He groaned yet again. “Please, MC, I’m close,” he pleaded, thrusting up into your hand desperately.

You smiled, lifting your hand off his ass to cradle his balls. His breaths quickened with your pace, and before long, he was moaning aloud unabashedly. “Fuck, treasure, please don’t stop,” He begged, rutting into your hand. His balls tensed up as he came, white cum spurting over your hand, dangerously close to staining your RAD uniform.

His breaths gradually returned to normal as you worked him through his orgasm, and a dopey smile found its way onto his face. You grinned, petting his hair with your clean hand before standing up to grab some wet wipes, not only to clean your hand, but also to wipe him off.

While you were grabbing the wipes, you heard a loud “thump” and swivelled your head to look at him: he had lain down— or rather, collapsed— onto his bed, kicked off his pants completely, and turned his face to watch you. You turned back, quickly cleaning yourself up and discarding the used tissues before making your way over with fresh ones to wipe down his front.

“Was that okay?” You asked, sitting down by his side and running the cool tissue over the dips of his abs, mopping up his cum, silently wanting to lick it off instead of wiping it away like this.

“Yeah,” he mumbled, closing his eyes. “Ts’ like I don’t even remember it.”

A moment of silence passed before he spoke up again. “Y’know, some of the things you did reminded me of them.”

You glanced up at him in alarm.

“But I kept telling myself, ‘It’s MC, it’s okay, they won’t hurt me.’” He paused. “And I’m glad I kept going. Somehow… I just don’t feel as dirty as I did before.”

You stifled a laugh. After all, you had just finished cleaning him up.

“I guess what I’m trynna say is, thanks, treasure,” he yawned, raising an arm to rub his eyes.

“Sleep tight,” you responded, reaching over to ruffle his hair one last time, and planting a kiss on his forehead before you tossed the soiled wipes into the trash and quietly made your exit out of his room.

Now, where were the other brothers? You had a score to settle, if you’d recalled correctly.

**Author's Note:**

> ugh can you tell i'm simping for this idiot


End file.
